Date: Sun, 10 Feb 2002 02:41:41 -0500
From: Cepes LA <cepes@mail.com>
Subject: The Interviewee Part 3

This is gay erotic fiction. If you are offended by graphic descriptions
of homosexual acts, go somewhere else.

Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed electronically
or in any other manner without the express, written consent of the
author. All rights are reserved by the author who may be reached at
cepes@mail.com.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of the characters to anyone
living or dead is pure coincidence and not intended. They are all
products of the author's overactive imagination.


The Interviewee Part 3


On Friday, I finally decided to say something. "You know, if you're
going to be at the library all day, I might be able to give you a ride
home tonight. Spare you the bus ride. Meet me here at 6.00." I had a
huge smile on my face. So did Alex. He nodded and I left. My smile did
not leave my face as I rode the elevator back to my floor. He had worn me
down. I still had some defenses, but I did not know what was going to
happen later this evening. Since Chris was meeting his sister for dinner,
I had the night to myself. Or maybe for Alex and me.

Frailty, thy name is John.


Friday night, 6.00. Finally, it was time. I had been wanting to visit the
out-of-the-way-bathroom for some personal satisfaction, but decided it
would be best if I saved what I had for the slim possibility that Alex
and I might get frisky together. Once again down the elevator shaft, I
arrived into the Coffee Bean and saw the back of Alex.

I went over to him, placing my hand on his shoulder as I had the first
day I noticed him invading the office building and not-so-subtly stalking
me. He was a high school senior who was applying to my alma mater; I met
with him for an hour and evaluated him for the admissions committee;
usually, that's the end of story. In this case, he decided to call me
again and ask to meet up. He had asked me to get involved with
him--emotionally, but he probably also wanted something sexual, too.
Because I met him through my college and because I love my boyfriend, I
turned him down, even though my fantasies kept Alex at the forefront of
my mind. He had spent the last week and a half patiently visiting me at
my building's coffee shop. Earlier this morning, I finally relented and
decided to offer him a ride home--and maybe something more--as a way to
get to know him better. I couldn't help myself, I couldn't get him out
of my mind.

He turned around, saw me, and smiled. "Sit down," he said.

"I thought I offered to give you a ride home."

"First, sit down."

"Why?"

"Before I am getting in your car, you have got to talk to me. You got to
interview me. I told you I want to have my shot interviewing you. If I
like your answers, then I might let you drive me home." His smile
widened on his face.

I sat, thinking about this request. He was definitely in control. He had
initiated contact with me. When I rejected his first overtures, he had
persisted. Now that I had capitulated and indicated some level of
interest in Alex, he wasn't going to let it go. He wanted me to fully
submit myself to his examination, as if he were the admissions committee
of a selective college. Of course, I had no way of knowing if he actually
thought in these terms. But to me this was the equivalent of licking his
boot, although talking would be a lot more pleasurable. I was getting
turned on.

"Okay, you can have your interview. But, not in here. I expect some of
your questions will be risque. Let's go outside where other people
won't overhear us."

"Fine." We rose up together and headed through the lobby and made it
outside. "You remember this is the same spot where you politely said no
to an interview last time? Sure you're ready to go through with it?"

I steeled myself. I needed to pass muster on this one. "Ask away."

Mischievous smile. "So, tell me about yourself." His smile widened to
take up half his face. He had asked me the question I opened our college
admissions interview with--the great standard opening question. He was
taunting me, subjecting me to what he had gone through.

I talked for ten minutes, telling him about growing up in a small town.
What I had done in high school, how I had gotten into the Ivy League and
what I did there, and I wound up in Los Angeles working for a management
consulting firm. I told him about my family, about my friends. He moved
the interview on to the next topic of conversation.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Being truthful always winds up being the best courses of action, so I
have found through many unfortunate incidents when I was less than
truthful. So, I told it like it is.

"Yes, I do. We met when we were in college, but we were just friends. We
both ended up moving to Los Angeles about four years. We decided to be
roommates, share expenses, keep each other company in large, impersonal
Los Angeles. One night after hitting a couple of bars, we wound up in
bed, naked. The next morning there were some embarrassed silences, but we
eventually decided we liked it and wanted to keep doing it. We've been
together for more than three years."

"What do you do with him?"

Deciding to play dense on this question, I told him about our shared
interests, cooking, music, travel, films. He listened, but I could read
his face and see that he was amused but really wanted me to talk about
another set of things `I do with him.'

"And in bed?"

"Yeah, there's sex. It's good."

"Top or bottom?"

"A bit personal, huh? I'm versatile," I said, with a touch more
indignation than necessary. Being in a relationship for these last years,
I have been spared from having to go out and consistently advertise
myself as on the market. Now, I was finding myself a bit embarrassed
about having to define myself this way. Besides, maybe I want make the
switch and become more dominant. I had long been very passive--ever since
I had gotten together with Chris. He initiates the sex and plays the top,
although he does whine about not getting enough dick crammed up his ass
sometimes.

"Mealy mouthed answer. So, you like to take it up the ass?"

"Well, it's better than a sharp stick poked in my eye."

Silence ensued as Alex digested all this and I certainly didn't want to
prolong this conversation or increase my level of discomfort. Eventually,
he looked at me and proceeded to ask some more detailed questions, off
the sexual track.

As I was answering one, he raised up his hand as though he were a
crossing guard and said, "Enough."

"What?"

"Enough. Stop."

Silence. Finally, a smile broke out on his poker-playing face. "You
passed."

I kept my stony face, but inwardly I was so relieved. "What do you mean
passed?"

"It was an interview. You passed. You're a sufficiently interesting
person to take me to dinner and then drive me home."

"Dinner, that wasn't part of the offer." I smiled.

"It is now. You can pay, too." He also smiled.

I nodded. "Fine. Let's head back in to the elevators so we can get my
car from the garage."

We made it to my car, a blue '96 Honda Civic. After I unlocked his door,
he climbed in and asked me if I had any favorite places. I thought for a
moment. There was this incredible Mexican place, La Serenata. It was
close and delicious. The setting was not-quite-intimate, but not
impersonal either. Perfect `first date' kind of place, if both people
like high-end Mexican food. "You like Mexican?"

"Sure."

And off we went. By now it was 7.30 and some of the awful Friday evening
traffic had cleared out. Three little miles later, we arrived and found a
place to park. Getting a table was easy. After Alex had looked at the
menu, he looked up and asked me, "Are there any questions you would like
to ask me?"

"I thought I knew you from our formal interview."

"Well, I asked you some very, uh, personal questions. Not the kind of
questions you can ask in a college admission interview. I wouldn't mind
if you wanted to ask me these questions."

"I see. Well, are you out?"

In between ordering and getting our drinks, Alex told me about his sexual
curricula vitae. It was a lot longer than I had expected it would be. He
would be turning 18 in three months; he had been sexually active since he
was 15. Two serious boyfriends, lots of random hookups; a definite
interest in slightly older men. His parents and close friends all knew
his history. High school generally wasn't the most welcoming place for
alternative preferences--so to the wider population, Alex was neither
here nor there, as they say. His soccer teammates had no problems with
the ambiguity; they had elected him a team captain.

"I've usually been the aggressive one and often wind up doing a lot of
the fucking. But, I really want to get more into being fucked."

I laughed as I picked up a warm chip with some cheese on it. I dipped it
into a smooth, extremely hot salsa. Delicious.

"Pretty funny. I'm a bottom who occasionally tops, but much more
recently. You're a top whose looking to bottom. If I weren't committed,
I'd say we were a match made in heaven."

Reminding Alex about Chris made him go silent. The only thing that
stopped the moment from becoming awkward was the arrival of our food. We
dug in and grunts and slight moans took the place of conversation. As
Alex finished, he grunted again and said the food had been great. He
started looking around for the restroom. I pointed him to the back, as I
was familiar with the layout of the place, and said I had to go as well.
We both got up, folded our napkins, and walked to the back of the
restaurant. What I hadn't told him was the layout of the bathroom. It
wasn't equipped with multiple stalls; no, it was the kind you walk in,
lock the door, and it's all yours. As we got to the door, Alex's
eyebrows arched, but all I did was say, "After you." He walked in and I
shut and locked the door.

His face blushed. I loved that. He was so surprising: sometimes he would
get embarrassed and blush, other times he could ask questions or do
brazen things without shame. I loved this complex richness to his
personality. I decided that I should show some strength now.

"I don't know what you look like. Show me."

The blush deepened, but his hands went for his fly. He unzipped, pulled
out a hardening piece of flesh, and turned around to the porcelain bowl.
He stood there, nervous, tense, trying to pee while I looked at him.
Finally, I heard the splash. I walked to him and started to feel his
back. I loved the muscles in his torso. At the first touch, the splash
stopped. But, it resumed as he apparently got over his initial shock. I
could smell him, the musky smell around his genital region. Very nice.

I moved my hands downward to his hips and kneaded for a moment. The
stream sounded as though it was slowing. My hands found his ass and moved
around over the cloth poking and probing. Tight, enticing. I had to get a
better feel. My hands went back up and inside the pants. A tight fit, but
not impossible. Under the underwear, some nice boxer briefs, I found the
actual flesh even more pleasing. By this point, Alex had stopped pissing
and had started panting. I was still digging in his pants, looking for
the special prize I knew was just waiting to be stroked. And there the
little pucker was. I lightly stroked a few circles around it and I felt
the shiver run through Alex's body. He was ready to go. I pulled my hand
out and smelled. Clean, musky, very nice.

"Turn around," I said. He did and I saw him at full staff. A very
respectable cock. Veiny, like his arms. Maybe a touch under six inches,
not too thin, not too thick. Perfect for sucking or fucking. Of course, I
really wanted to get to know his backside better.

"Now tuck that back in. The night is still young." His nervous demeanor
changed to a small smile when I hinted that I might be interested. He put
himself back into his underwear and zipped up his slacks. I still hadn't
seen his sac, but I was more sure than ever that I would be taking a
good, hard look later tonight.

"Did you like that?"

"Yes. Can I touch you?" A nervous tone entering back into his voice.

"All in good time. Wash up," I said, as I was at the sink. "Let's go
out and have some dessert. The coconut flan is almost as delicious as
your tight ass. Maybe we can have more dessert later on, somewhere else,
too." I liked that the shyness had come to the forefront. Because I knew
he could get mischievous and that my grip on him was tenuous at best, I
was enjoying this exchange even more intensely.

He turned off the faucet after he had washed himself. I unlocked and
opened the door. We startled the man waiting to use the restroom. He was
obviously not used to seeing two gentlemen walk out of the restroom
designed for one. Particularly when one of the gents had a smile as large
as Alex had on his face now. His case of the nerves was definitely over.
I was expecting him to become frisky any moment now.

We sat down at our table, flagged down the waiter, and ordered the
fantastic coconut flan. I looked at Alex and marveled at how beautiful he
was. His body and physique, of course, were right up my alley, but the
personality was so magnetic that I couldn't help myself. I had not ever
cheated on Chris before. Always it was look but don't touch. Well, I'd
already started touching and needed to feel some more, as long as Alex
wanted it, too. I needed to know what he wanted to do. Did he just want a
ride home? Did he want to get to know me, in the Biblical sense of the
word? I had to ask; I had to know.

My spirit and my flesh were both very willing. But, would Alex feel the
same?


To be continued.


Author's Note: I appreciate hearing your comments on this story or
anything else. You can send me a message at cepes@mail.com. I will
respond to all messages I receive.